


Your Mess is Mine

by Anonymous



Category: Legion (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Claire Temple, Gen, Humor, M/M, Peter is smol and exasperated and doesn't need your protection (TM), Psychiatrist Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Peter somehow becomes a psychiatrist for every hero and villain around. He also somehow becomes accused of murder, but let's not dwell on that, shall we?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The characters from the MCU are mostly based off of MCU, and the characters who aren't are obviously from the comics. 
> 
> Eh, it's Marvel and there's a lot of shit to draw from, so don't be surprised if there are some changes. Also some people who died in the MCU are still alive because this is an AU and I do what what I want.

The Avengers have destroyed the city five times, the X-Men three, and the other muta(tes or nts) at least two by the time Peter is finally finished with his residency. He's pretty goddamn sick of moving apartments every other month just because of yet another alien invasion, but what can a guy do when he lives in the heart of downtown New York where every alien from twenty thousand light years away chooses to land? He's already decided to move to the middle of buttfuck nowhere when he's finished. All he needs is his license.

"LOKIIIIIIII!" a voice roars as he steps into the sunlight, his heart light for the first time in the past eight years. He's just finished his licensure exam and nothing can stop him from finally being a psychiatrist.

"Just try and kill me, brother!"

Except maybe that.

The green-clad god with the funky horn helmet laughs arrogantly as he tilts a staff towards Thor and fires it. Peter backs up one step towards the university he just exited, squinting against the heat as a skyscraper behind Thor explodes in a flash of blue. Loki grins triumphantly as the rest of the Avengers, hard on Thor's heels, scatter to save the residents of the building from certain death. Peter blows out an annoyed breath.

"You dare to defy me after all of this?" Thor roars, swinging his hammer towards Loki. He's too quick for his brother to dodge, and suddenly the villain is thrown towards the university with so much force that he's definitely going through the wall.

"No, no, no!" Peter yells as Loki smashes through the bricks to land somewhere within the school. His exam is in there, and it takes a boatload of cash to write that he can't afford to pay again. Not when insurance apparently doesn't cover the Avengers breaking shit in any form, because Peter's checked every freaking time. He should really run away and take cover so he doesn't get crushed by hunk of marble or something, but the thought of the six hour exam that's completely fried his brain having to be written _all over again_ is too much.

With barely a glance at where the other Avengers are warning civilians not to get too close, Peter straightens his shoulders and marches into the building. They are _not_ messing today up for him. Absolutely no way.

Students stream out in droves with screams, cries, and whoops as Peter stalks the halls, keeping a brisk pace so he can get to the exam room in time. Behind him, Loki crashes through another wall with Thor's hammer in his abdomen and the whole place shakes. Peter continues walking, brushing dust from the new outfit he picked to bring him luck. When he reaches the outside of his classroom, the tension in his shoulders relaxes a little. He can hear the gods yelling from somewhere far away, too far away to be that big of a deal. He shoves the door open.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," he moans, resisting the urge to sink to his knees as he takes in the destruction in front of him. Apparently Loki just _had_ to land in the classroom where he'd written the exam, and pages are scattered everywhere with dust coating both them and the debris of what used to be a lecture hall. The proctor is cowering behind the desk at the front, which sports a man-sized dent in its metal from where Loki must've hit.

"Sir!" Peter yelps over the sound of destruction growing nearer. He hurries over to where the salt-and-pepper haired man is trembling and muttering about how he's never agreeing to anything Karen asks him to do again. "Sir, do you have my exam?"

"Your _exam_?" the proctor asks in disbelief, voice cracking in fear. "Good God, man, I just lost control of my bladder and you're asking if I have control of your exam? Absolutely not! This city is nuts and I'm never coming back!"

With a shriek of fear, he jumps up (and he definitely wasn't kidding about pissing himself) to run from the room. Peter lets out a growl of frustration under his breath as he hikes his sleeves up and begins digging around through the papers himself. Not that he really believes anyone will accept a submission after he's had the papers with no one to watch him, but a man can dream, right?

It takes a while to gather everything he's written amongst the rest of the exams, but when he finally does he feels a smidge of satisfaction. At the very least, he can show this to the insurance company and try to argue for them to cover half of a makeup exam. That's something, right?

He's in the midst of ordering the papers neatly on the proctor's desk when a clang resounds through the room and Loki crashes through a different wall that doesn't have a hole in it. Or, well, it does now. A wall that didn't originally have a hole in it.

"Curse you, you whining, pathetic ox. You'll never be half the god I am," Loki spits as the papers Peter's just ordered take off from their stack to get lost around the room.

"I will bring you home and you will face consequences you could never even dream of," Thor growls in return as he steps through the hole, flipping his hammer around and around on his fist. The papers gently drift to land on surfaces all over.

"Then let us finally prove who the better brother is," Loki sneers as he hefts his staff or spear or sceptre or whatever the frick.

"Indeed," Thor agrees grimly as he begins walking towards Loki.

Thor steps on one of the papers Peter knows is his own. Loki slices through another one on his way to Thor and it bursts into ash. Peter McFreakin'™ loses it.

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" he screams, slamming his fist on the desk so hard that he's pretty sure he's broken his hand. His eyes well with tears at the pain but he continues to glare as both men turn, startled, to where his lips have curled back from his teeth in a snarl of anger. Somewhere deep down he knows that this is the worst thing he's ever done in his life; that he should've just slunk away when he had the chance. But he's been working on this for years, Aunt May just had to be put in a home for her dementia, he probably can't afford rent next month, he hasn't eaten in two days, he's running on one hour of sleep and six cups of coffee, and His. Exam. Has. Been. Destroyed.

"Human - "

"Don't you dare 'human' me, you walking L’Oreal commercial," Peter blows up, levelling a finger at Thor's face. "You think you can just throw your brother into this building, fight him to the death or whatever, then skip on out of here with your hair flowing and leave all this destruction behind?"

Loki snorts out a quiet laugh, leering at Thor while the blond stares at Peter in confusion.

"Hey! Edgy McGoth-mo," Peter rounds on Loki. "What are _you_ laughing at? You're even worse than him! You love warring with your brother on any surface available so you're just as much to blame."

"You dare - "

"Shut up! I'm not done! You guys own an entire freaking planet to fight on and instead of taking your Mommy and Daddy issues out up there, you come down here to do it? You don't think we have enough to deal with when aliens think we're some sort of fast-food restaurant that they come to dine-and-ditch at with really rude waiters who throw them out when they act up? For the love of Christ, sort your shit out. You're two grown ass men! What, you're angry because... because Thor stole all your parents' love when you were kids? And Thor's angry because he can't see that he was the favourite child and there's just a metric shit-ton of miscommunication going on here? Both of you are acting like over-priveleged man-babies. You're _gods_! Fighting like a couple of toddlers may make the two of you feel powerful, but everyone else just sees you as... as giant unintelligent fools who know nothing of the intricacies of social interaction!"

When Peter's finished, chest heaving up and down from the exertion of spilling all of that, he realizes he's fucked up. He just insulted two literal gods to their faces and didn't hold back a single blow. Loki will kill him for sure, and hell, even Thor's probably going to chuck the hammer his way despite Thor being one of the good guys. He shakes his hand with a wince as he starts feeling the pain from the break, lips thinning as he shrugs helplessly while Thor and Loki peer at him then glance at each other. He's dead. He's dead, gone, deceased, power turned off, controller unplugged. Bye, bye, Peter Parker. Game Over.

"Well?" Thor demands, lowering his hammer and crossing arms made of so much lush, golden muscle than a lion would be jealous.

"Well what?" Peter squeaks, wondering if they're waiting for an apology. Now that his anger's run out, he can kind of see why his proctor peed himself. God, these two are terrifying. Huge, intimidating, and so intense that he wants to sink into the floor. With both of them completely focused on him...

"What do you propose we do to remedy that, human?" Loki hisses in annoyance, slamming the blunt end of his staff on the ground and making Peter jump with his hands raised defensively. He slowly lowers them when he realizes that both Thor and Loki are actually listening to him, waiting for him to give them some sort of solution. All he can think of is the stuff he went over last night, drilling it into his brain to make sure he had it down.

"F-family mediated therapy?" he stammers, sweating bullets. Thor and Loki give each other confused looks before Thor shrugs and nods.

"Very well. Teach us this 'family mediated therapy.'"

"O... kay..." Peter says nervously, tugging at his collar. How could he have yelled at these two? He knows the term for that, too; it's called temporary insanity. "Well, first let's take a seat. And next... let's talk about your parents. And how you feel about them."

* * *

Two years later, Peter has his own psychiatric office in downtown New York right near his old school. Avengers and X-Men are Mondays, Defenders and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are Tuesdays, villains and antiheroes are Wednesdays and Saturdays (since some of them work on Wednesdays), Guardians of the Galaxy and Fantastic Four are Thursdays, and Fridays are for anyone else. Sundays are supposed to be Peter's, but usually he gets emergency cases on those days. When he doesn't get emergency calls in the middle of the night. (How many incredibly powerful people does he have on speed-dial? You don't wanna know.)

 Every time he thinks of how he ended up here, he's still baffled. The rest of the Avengers had appeared in the middle of speaking to Thor and Loki, then sat down to listen in on the session. Two days later Tony Stark had set him up with an office, S.H.I.E.L.D. had hired a (in Peter's professional opinion, schizophrenic) mercenary to protect him, and he had more clients than the amount of people in his graduating class. The pay is good enough that he can pay for Aunt May to stay at home with a full-time nurse, and the work is interesting despite him getting hardly any hours off. Yes, hours.

"Who do we have next, Claire?" Peter asks as he spins in the nicest leather chair money can afford (courtesy of Norman Osborn, actually). Claire Temple is probably the best thing to come with his job; Tony had hired her as his assistant without realizing that he needed a secretary instead of a nurse. Nonetheless, they'd managed to work out a system that allowed her to vaguely secretary while still nurse when emergency cases stumbled in with wounds.

"Shiklah," Claire sighs as she carries one box of folders and Wade carries another to drop on Peter's desk. Peter sits up with a groan, opening the first box to see 'Shiklah File #1000' written on the top.

"Immortals have too much medical history," Peter grumbles as they sling a couple more boxes on his desk. "Jeez, she nearly has as much as Thanos, and that guy's been around for millennia. I don't have time to read through all of this."

"She's my ex-wife," Wade giggles behind a gloved hand, always the mature one. He slings an arm around Peter's shoulders, leaning in close. "I can tell you all about her over coffee tomorrow."

"Wade, I don't date my clients," Peter reminds the merc absentmindedly as he opens 'Shiklah File #1.' It's written in some archaic language on papyrus paper. "I told you that you're not actually in love with me; you're just projecting."

"You said my love would fade after a while but it's been two years and I love you more with each passing day," Wade sings, planting a huge kiss through his mask on Peter's cheek. Peter makes a low sound of annoyance in his throat, not looking up as he tries to decipher what looks like a hieroglyphic. He can't make heads or tails of a single thing in the file. He tosses it back in the box and stands up.

"I'll just ask her about the important things. _No_ smart comments about her lying, and if she feels uncomfortable with you being here then you're leaving the room."

"Nuh-uh, Doctor Sexy. S.H.I.E.L.D. says I'm not to leave your side for a single second when you're in-office."

"S.H.I.E.L.D. stopped controlling what I do a long time ago," Peter reminds him as he strides to the door. "And really, I don't think there's a single villain out there who wants to hurt me. For whatever reason, they like talking to someone who doesn't judge them like the rest of the world. I can't imagine why."

He yanks the door open, holding it for Claire as Wade pouts. He's only being salty because he wants to live in Peter's condo instead of in the condo below Peter's. He claims he can't do his bodyguard job properly if he's not in Peter's bed. In Peter's mind, there's no way in hell that's ever going to happen. Even if he did like Wade, he barely has time to make Mr. Noodles, let alone be in a relationship.

"Uh, Peter?" Claire asks hesitantly, and _that_ gets Peter's attention because Claire is never hesitant about anything. He steps out to see that the six clients in the waiting room have two cops surrounded. Shiklah is holding a claw at one of their throats, Frank Castle has a gun pointed at the other's head, Kilgrave is enjoying making them rub their stomachs and pat their heads, Bucky is standing at the door to block their way out, Bullseye is twirling a playing card across his knuckles, and Erik is reading a magazine while the six forks Claire had lost around the office hover in a circle around the cops.

"Woah!" Peter chokes as Wade suddenly shoves Peter behind him and levels his own guns at the cops. "What the hell is going on here?"

"P-please, sir," one of the cops begs weakly.

"Ah-ah-ah. Did I say you could talk?" Kilgrave admonishes, waving a finger. "Shut your mouths and don't open them unless Peter asks you to."

The cops' mouths snap shut before anyone has a chance to react. Peter's brows furrow as he does his best not to face palm. As the leader of the HFOC (Humans For Others Coalition, Others in this case being anyone non-human), he has his job cut out for him trying to make people see that not all Others are bad. A display like this is the prime reason the HFOC movement is failing.

"Kilgrave, it's fine. Everyone just relax. I don't think two cops would be able to kill me with a single one of you in the room, let alone all of you. Not to mention the fact that they're, you know, _cops._ You guys, I'm asking you to open your mouths. What's going on?"

His clients all slowly relax, though they keep watchful eyes on the men as they step aside. The cops look like they're about to cry as they approach Peter, and he has to physically shove Wade aside to get the merc to stop protecting him like a watchdog.

"If you hurt my baby boy, I _will_ disembowel you," Wade says cheerfully as he tucks the guns away. Peter arches an eyebrow, tapping his foot until Wade lets out a grumble of defeat and steps further away. The cops take off their caps as a sign of respect, not getting any closer than necessary.

"He won't bite," Claire prompts them impatiently; neither of them are fans of being late and they have a ton of appointments to get through today.

"S-sir, we don't really want to do this," Cop #1 says, exchanging a pained look with Cop #2. "It's just that our orders - "

"Erik!" Peter warns sharply as a fork is suddenly an inch away from the back of Cop #1's neck. Erik flips the page in his magazine, crossing one leg nonchalantly over the other.

"Uh..."

"It's fine, he won't hurt you. Continue."

"Right. Well, the thing is, see... We're supposed to place you under arrest."

At this, everyone is coming forward again and it's Peter's turn to shove the cops behind him while he holds up both hands in a gesture for everyone in the room to chill the fuck out.

"I can make them forget," Kilgrave suggests.

"I can seduce the orders away from them," Shiklah grins.

"I can fuck them up," Frank growls.

"I can play 'cards' with them," Bullseye winks.

"I can call the Avengers to take out all cops," Bucky states.

"I can put their money where their mouth is, literally," Erik muses.

"I can shoot them in the head," Wade laughs.

"I feel like I haven't accomplished a single thing during these therapy sessions," Peter sighs. "No, no, and no. This seems like a human thing, so if you guys get involved then all the people will be all up in arms and freaking out. I'll deal with it. Sit down."

Before anyone has time to answer, he steps backwards into his office and shuts the door, locking it with a decisive click so he's left alone with the cops. He lets out a long breath, setting his forehead against the rough wood of the door as he listens to the men behind him fidget.

"Sorry, they're all a little protective. Now, what's this about, officers? If it's that HFOC protest last week, then I can assure you - "

"Where were you last Saturday night, Mr. Parker?" Cop #2 asks, voice cracking as if he thinks Peter is going to do something. Ha, as if Peter has any powers. The only powers he has are the instincts that tell him there's eight people pressed up against the door listening in on the conversation. He gives the door a quick bang and hears stumbles from just outside. Yep.

"Last Saturday?" He turns around, running a hand through his hair. "Um... What time?" He'd been doing an emergency Skype conference with Gamora, Thanos, and Nebula for nearly three hours that Saturday.

"Around two in the morning?" Cop #1 phrases it like a question, as if he's scared of being wrong. Peter leans against the door, brow furrowing. He tries to be in bed by that time, and last Saturday was no different.

"Sleeping at my home. Why?"

"Do you have anyone who can corroborate that story?"

"I mean, Wade's condo is just under mine so he knows if I'm going out."

"Anyone... non-Other?"

"What's this all about?" Peter asks, suddenly suspicious. What does being an Other or not have to do with having an alibi? The cops press closer together as if taking solace that they're stuck in the same position, with Peter being the only thing between them and seven Others.

"We weren't told much; just that Others can't count in the court of law for this particular case. Something to do with bias and the amount of clients you have. Mr. Parker... we found your DNA at a crime scene. Enough DNA to place you there as the main suspect, and you're the only one who doesn't have an alibi for that night. According to our orders, we're supposed to read you your rights and arrest you."

"Wait. Hold on, slow down for a second," Peter grits out, finding it hard to breathe. His DNA was at a crime scene? He was at a crime scene last Saturday? It doesn't make sense at all, because he's sure he was sleeping. He wants to say that, except he's been under a lot of pressure lately and at some points time slips when he's not looking. He's lost a couple of hours a few times, not overly concerning and never at work so it hasn't affected his performance, but enough at home that he notices it. Notices that he blanks out and comes to a couple of hours later in a different place. There's no way he's committing crimes, though, right? No. No way.

"What kind of crime is it, anyway?" he asks to distract himself. What if he's randomly stealing jewels? That happens, right?

"A murder," Cop #2 answers, hand twitching to his gun belt as he eyes Peter nervously again. "One of the most brutal any of us have ever seen."

Peter's speechless, waiting for one of them to burst out laughing and say they're punking him. He's gotten some interesting pranks on April first for sure, though April's long gone.

"That can't be right," he hears himself say as if from far away. "It can't be."

"I'm sorry, but we have to bring you in."

Cop #1 holds up both hands to calm Peter down while Cop #2 touches the handcuffs at his waist. Peter is still standing there in a daze when Cop #1 starts in on the first bit of his rights. A second later, the door to his office is flying off its hinges and all hell breaks loose.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically this whole thing is an excuse to have all my favourite characters chill together ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

So here's the thing about being trained in how to talk to people; you know when you're being fed bullshit. Peter knows from the second he's brought in for questioning that the whole 'Innocent until proven guilty' thing is a crock of shit because of the way he starts getting grilled when he's sat in the interrogation room. He can feel eyes on him through the two-way glass as he curls his hands around a paper cup and throws it back, the metallic tang cooler water always has filling his mouth like the taste of blood. He grimaces as he sets it down on the flimsy table separating him from a cop who looks more cut out to be an Italian mob boss.

"You'd better start talking or - "

"Are my lawyers here yet?" Peter asks patiently, folding his hands one over the other and ignoring the clinking of his handcuffs sliding together. This guy is bad cop. A woman with a bun so severe it looks like her face is a rubber mask being stretched back is  good cop. She's left the room to see what bad cop can squeeze out of him before his lawyers show up. Which, much to the massive man's frustration, is nothing.

"Do you at least want to tell me how many of your... friends... helped you?" Bad Cop asks as he rubs the ends of an impressive moustache between his fingers. Peter leans back in his chair and arches a brow pointedly at the glass where he knows Good Cop is watching. There's no way he's going to start talking about any of his clients, not when it took him and Claire together to calm them long enough for Peter to allow himself to be handcuffed. They'd all followed him in Claire's sleek black Escalade (bought on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s budget) and are now seated in a new waiting room with only Claire standing between them and the cops. God, Peter loves Claire. He'd be so totally fucked without her.

"Sir?" a timid voice calls after a knock, and Bad Cop turns his stormy expression on a skinny secretary who opens the door wider to allow access to the two men behind him. The walking cane tentatively enters the room first, feeling out the doorway dimensions while Peter hides a smirk at the show. Matt doesn't need the cane to know where he's going; he's probably just enjoying wasting Bad Cop's time.

"Who are you?" Bad Cop barks when Matt's fully entered the room with Foggy gliding in behind him. Matt tilts his head towards Bad Cop, rose tinted glasses obscuring his expression.

"We're his lawyers and we'd appreciate it if you stopped trying to speak to our client while we're not in the room," Foggy pipes up, stepping forward and setting a briefcase on the table.

"Can't you see that cooperating will be beneficial?" Bad Cop snaps, glancing between Matt and Foggy distastefully. "The court will be taking it all into account."

"Actually," Matt sighs as he canes his way over to the chair beside Peter's and drags it out, head turned in Bad Cop's general direction. "I can't _see_ anything."

Peter brushes a hand over his mouth to hide a smirk while Foggy openly laughs. Bad Cop is taken aback before he realizes that Matt is blind. He opens his mouth. Shuts it again when he realizes he doesn't have a good, politically correct comeback. Without another word, he turns and strides from the room, slamming the door shut.

" _Matt_ ," Peter laughs while the man smiles a shit-eating grin. "How many times have I told you that people don't know how to react when you crack blind jokes?"

"Enough that I got him out of the room," Matt quips as he sets his cane against the table and turns to Peter. Foggy drags the cop's chair around the table so they're both sitting facing Peter, and the mood quickly sours when the three of them consider the situation.

"Claire told me everything. I think it's pretty obvious you're being framed," Matt says, mouth setting in a grim line.

"Yeah, but who would want to frame _Peter_?" Foggy asks in a low voice, shooting a glance at the two-way glass. "What he's done for the Other community in the past couple of years has made him too many friends and no enemies. Even Frank has nothing  but good things to say and we all know Frank isn't exactly a ball of sunshine and puppies."

"Which is why I get the feeling that this isn't personal," Matt murmurs thoughtfully, tilting his head so his ear is better positioned to hear the door. "I've been listening since we got in here and there's some weird stuff going on around this case. Only certain cops are in on it and the process of everything is being rushed. They even want your hearing pushed up so they can expedite your trial and get you behind bars. If there's this many people involved then I highly doubt it's personal. Seems more politically motivated to me."

"Oh, jeez," Foggy groans, rubbing his palms against his forehead. "It's not Others then, is it? This can't just be solved by Daredevil and the Punisher going out to crack a few skulls."

"Maybe it can," Matt says seriously, leaning forward. "If you're being framed by humans, then it shouldn't be hard to find out who did it. I'm sure Foggy and I can get you out on bail, so then it's only a matter of a small investigation."

"When you say small, about how long do you think it'll take?" Peter asks, sweat beading on his brow for the first time. Truth be told, he isn't worried about himself as much as he is about his clients. Certain Others need his help to get them through the week; if he takes a couple of days off then things could start to get really bad really quick.

"My suggestion? Call your most unstable clients; the ones who need the most help, and tell them what's going on before they hear about it on the news. I have a feeling the press release is going to be big because everyone knows who you are, and the last thing we need is Others losing their minds. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that this is why you're being framed. Someone who doesn't like Others is trying to prove that they're dangerous. You're the only common denominator all Others have in common."

"This is bad," Peter breathes, tapping his fingers on the table as he thinks. There's a few people he'll definitely need to keep by his side throughout it all if he doesn't want them going supernova. "Foggy, do you think you could make some calls on my behalf?"

"Whatever you need, man."

"Okay." Peter flattens his palm against the table as he comes up with a list of people who are on Earth right now who could possibly cause trouble. "Okay, here's the team I'm going to be spending the investigation with..."

* * *

 Turns out Peter made the right call in bringing his clients in most need of help to his side. The bond hearing is immediately after he's booked and, true to their word, Foggy and Matt get him out on bail.

("...set at three hundred million US dollars."

"Excuse me, good sir!" Thor piped up, waving a hand in the air while the rest of the Avengers tried desperately to shush him. "How does that convert to Asgardian gold?"

"I would like to know as well," Loki called with a competitive glance at his brother. "I'll pay it myself."

The result was both of them being led out of court by an exasperated Nat and Bruce. The judge fixed watery blue eyes on Peter, lip curling derisively despite the fact that Peter had never seen him before.

"Of course, given the nature of the crime, there's a stipulation. As someone who, by all rights, can have an Other do whatever you like, you'll be held fully responsible for any crimes or damage that the Others cause our city. A single attack - alien, Other, interdimensional being, or otherwise - will see you in prison with no hope of bail. Understood?"

Matt stood up indignantly while Foggy let out a sound under his breath that was the personification of offended.

"That's completely - "

"Furthermore, all persons who testify on your behalf will be tested by the proper authorities for any sign of mutant or mutate powers. If there is evidence that they are Other, their testimonies won't be allowed. You hold too much sway in that community."

" _Your Honour,_ " Foggy growled, face stormier than Peter had ever seen it as Matt froze in shock. "These pe - 'Others' still have rights. Testing breaches their privacy, not to mention - "

"They are not people!" the judge roared, slamming his gavel for emphasis. "There is nothing in our constitution about defending anyone who's Other! These _creatures_ have destroyed our city so many times that they should all be locked up. Every one of them should be documented and tagged to protect normal people from the things they do."

"How could you say something like that?" Foggy asked, pale-faced and trembling. "Half this courtroom is full of people with powers."

Foggy never once looked directly at Matt, but Peter could tell it was Matt that Foggy was really defending. Matt had his head bowed and was clenching his walking stick so hard it looked like it was about to break. The rest of the room had also gone silent enough to hear a pin drop, and three of Peter's clients got up and shoved their way out the door in anger.

So, in all, it really hadn't gone well in the least. Peter had almost spoken up to say he'd rather go to jail than sit there and listen to that shit despite the fact that he'd once been annoyed with Others destroying the city. Sure, he'd been annoyed, but blatant discrimination like this was insane. A term he didn't use lightly.)

"That guy was an asshole," Tony says with a shake of his head, fanning himself with the manila envelopes he'd brought three hundred million cash in. "I contacted Starlord and he says there's a fleet of aliens planning to attack within the next week. He's going to hold them off for as long as he can, but he's going to need some help. James, Thor, Loki, Ultron, and I are going to head up there tomorrow, make sure they don't get here and get you thrown in prison. Sorry we can't help you investigate."

"You're just heading to space?" Peter asks incredulously. Tony shrugs and nods. "Wow. Uh... well, thank you, first of all. Second, I'll try to find out who's causing the murders so you can come back ASAP."

"I know a girl," Kilgrave purrs as he slinks up behind Peter, wrapping one arm around Peter's shoulders. Kilgrave made it on Peter's list for sure; last time he hadn't kept an appointment, Nick Fury had personally come with Charles and Erik to try to find him. He was too slippery to be out on the streets with full leeway and no Wednesday appointments to keep him in check.

"I've told you a hundred times that Jessica has to forgive you on her own terms before the two of you speak. And it's not even a necessity that she forgive you; if she chooses not to, it's well within her rights. You're not good for her headspace."

"She won't do it for me," Kilgrave agrees, tightening his grip on Peter's shoulder. "But you, she had a crush on in high school, didn't she? She'll investigate for you."

"I am _not_ exploiting my therapeutic and... childhood bond with Jessica to get her to do my bidding. If she approaches me, I'll accept her help, but I won't put her in a position where she feels obligated to assist with you hanging around."

"Exactly!" Wade says as he elbows his way between Kilgrave and Peter, setting his head on Peter's shoulder and wrapping both arms around Peter's chest. "Doctor Sexy doesn't need old flames in the picture when he has new ones perfectly willing to help. Isn't that why you put me on your list of people to stay close?"

His mask twitches oddly around his eyes as if he's batting his eyelashes, and Peter grimaces. Keeping the people on his list close means making space in his condo for them. Claire has agreed to house the girls and one guy while Peter houses the rest. Of course Claire is on his list, though she's there for moral support rather than because he has anything to worry about.

"Steve and I will investigate with the rest of the Avengers on our own," Bucky murmurs as he suddenly appears on Peter's other side. "We're also going to make sure no more crimes happen that are caused by Others. We're collaborating with the X-Men. Are any of us on your list?"

"No; I think Steve and Charles have it all under control on that front. A ton of you guys have come so far in the past few years that I barely have to worry about anyone compared to how many clients I have. We'll just meet up every couple of days to share info."

"Understood." Bucky drifts off to link hands with Steve, the two of them striking quite the couple as Steve laughs at something Bruce has said while he absentmindedly clasps Bucky's hand as if it's meant to be in his. Peter grins a little at the memory of helping them come out as a couple. The rest of the Avengers had died laughing because they'd realized before Steve and Bucky that the two were completely in love.

"Someday, that'll be us," Wade says dreamily, and Peter elbows his way out of Wade's arms with a huff.

"I'll never have time to have that. I don't even have time to be standing here. What am I doing?"

He brushes invisible lint from a suit jacket that smells like mothballs (he wears dressy shirts to work, not suits, so he'd had to borrow one of Uncle Ben's old suits) and straightens, casting his glance about for the other people on his list. There are a ton of people milling about the courthouse so he grabs Wade and Kilgrave by the arms and physically drags them out into the sunlight, squinting down the steps to see if his people have arrived yet.

" _Besame el culo, hijo de puta!_ " a high voice spits, and Peter knows just enough Spanish to wince at hearing that come from a little girl's mouth. Logan's influence, of course; Logan had probably learned Spanish just to teach Laura how to swear like a sailor in both languages. Peter assumes his most stern expression as a bedraggled Foggy tugs Laura by the hand to where Peter's waiting.

"She didn't want to come," Foggy explains grimly, his suit ripped in six places and hanging nearly in tatters as Laura's nose curls at him. She was the product of Erik messing around with way too many timelines after learning Charles's future. The story involves long, complicated time-travelling and Logan insisting on having the little girl born earlier, and it's such a long story that it gives Peter a headache to think about. The last part of it is basically that Logan had to travel with Scott and Jean, so he left Laura in Peter's care. She's been staying at Peter's place while he works, and he knows for a fact that things would've gone poorly if she'd found out about his arrest on television.

"Laura," Peter sighs as the girl glares at Foggy. Peter and Tony had filled out a bunch of paperwork while Foggy and Matt had gone to pick Laura up. Apparently that had been a bad idea.

"Peter?" Her voice softens from its sharp tone, accent making it lilt as her eyes set on him and she violently jerks her shoulder away from where Foggy has been trying to place his hand. "You sent him?"

"I did. I'm sorry I didn't have time to call, but I thought giving him my watch would prove it was me who sent him. Were you giving him a hard time?"

Laura springs lightly up the steps to stand at Peter's side, narrowing her eyes at Wade with a muttered insult in Spanish. When she looks back at Peter, her eyes are defiant, daring him to disagree.

"No."

Peter can't help but smile while Foggy looks at her, then shrugs helplessly.

"It would've been better if Matt had come with me. We got a call from the other two people on your list and he took a taxi to pick them up. You're lucky they decided to check out Times Square after visiting Charles, otherwise you would've had to Skype them."

"Is it who I think it is?" Wade interrupts, a wolfish grin on his face.

"People who know Jessica?" Kilgrave asks hopefully.

"No and no," Claire answers the both of them as she comes out from courtroom where she was talking with Luke. Laura smiles and steps forward to wrap both arms around Claire, hugging her tight while Claire brushes her fingers through the girl's hair. "Wade, I'm betting you think it's Logan because we have Laura. It's not. He's off the grid so hopefully he won't hear about this incident for a while."

Wade nods and tries to subtly take Peter's hand. Laura nearly slices his fingers off before she drags Claire down a step so she can take Peter's hand instead, stubbornly clutching Peter and Claire. Wade sticks his tongue out. Laura glowers.

"Everyone's so touchy," Kilgrave observes, tenting his fingers with a smirk. "I could - "

"No, you can't," Peter warns without looking, standing on his toes to peer down the street and see if there are any taxis near. Stupid mistake. It's New York; it would be weirder if every second car _wasn't_ a yellow cab, not to mention uber and unmarked cars. He needn't have worried about the wait, however; a few seconds later a cab pulls up and Matt gets out first.

"Do you think he can see us here?" Wade jokes. Peter resists the urge to hit him. You don't hit your clients, even if they have super healing powers. _Especially_ if they have super healing powers. And if they have admantium skulls that you can potentially break your hand on. _Not that Peter had ever done that. No way. Noooo._

"I can't because I see no evil," Matt calls, and then he and Wade both chuckle as if it's the most hilarious thing they've ever heard. Peter and Foggy share long-suffering looks.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," the man behind Matt says to the woman beside him, standing out from the crowd with light hair so fluffy it belongs on a Samoyed's tail. "If you have some sort of 'issue,' you can make jokes about it without everyone getting offended, right? So why can't I make jokes about the voices in my head? If it's a thing, shouldn't I be able to?"

"Where'd you find this one?" Kilgrave asks, arching a brow. Peter shushes him, wondering how long it's going to be before his little gang gets into a big fight. He gives it a total of five minutes.

"David, you make schizophrenia jokes," the woman sighs, gloved fingers laced together with David's. "And you aren't schizophrenic."

"Still not one hundred percent sure about that," David answers, shrugging quickly. "I mean, how do you know? Really? _Really?_ ”

“I like him,” Wade announces. “He’s going to be my friend.”

“That’s... an attitude,” Peter acknowledges. He’s definitely made a mistake bringing these people together. Wade’s never met David because it’s always been Skype, so Peter can’t _wait_ for the conversation the two of them have about voices in their head. And he means that in the driest, most sarcastic way possible.

“Doctor Parker!” David greets enthusiastically, and then he’s hugging Peter without any regard for Laura, who looks like she wants to kill him, or Wade, who looks like David just went from friend number one to enemy number one. Peter hugs him back tentatively, ignoring the jealous looks. He’s going to have to give a seminar on how he doesn’t play favourites at this point.

“Peter is fine since we’re going to be working together a lot. Nice to see you, David. And you, Syd.” The gloved woman nods with a shy smile, reaching out to shake Peter’s hand. When he introduces the rest of the team, things are actually going alright. David and Syd both know Claire from Skype, Wade is suspicious but still accepting because he shares voices with David, Laura is... herself, and Kilgrave is civil. To a point. Sadly, before Peter can get to explaining everyone’s powers, Kilgrave loses his civility in favour of curiosity. Yep, that one needs to be worked on.

“You know it’s rude to wear gloves when shaking someone’s hand,” Kilgrave comments as Syd stretches out her fingers. Peter catches the tail end of the sentence. “Take off your glove and shake my hand.”

“Kilgrave, n - ”

But it’s too late. Syd’s baby blues are huge as she strips her glove off and sets the naked skin of her palm against Kilgrave’s. Peter’s never seen Syd’s powers in action, but David has and that’s the only thing that saves them from an incident that would likely end with Peter in prison due to him ‘not controlling the Others.’ There’s a flash of light and everyone is thrown back a foot before David lifts his hands and has them hovering. He slowly lowers his hands so they’re all on their feet, then quickly makes his way to Kilgrave’s side.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asks, taking Kilgrave’s face in his hands.

“Ooh, he done got fucked up,” Wade whispers to Peter. Laura steps on Wade’s foot for Peter, even though she looks just as startled.

Kilgrave’s eyes flicker open and he reaches up to put his hand over David’s. Except it’s not really Kilgrave anymore, because the _real_ Kilgrave is groaning as he sits up and looks down to find himself in Syd’s body.

“Bloody hell,” he mutters as he picks distastefully at the hem of a pale pink skirt. “This isn’t what I had planned for today.”

“Ha! Oh my God!” Wade cracks up as he realizes what’s going on. “You’re - and she’s - ”

“I told you this would end poorly,” Claire sighs into Peter’s shoulder, where she’s buried her head so she doesn’t have to look at quite possibly the weirdest scene they’ve ever witnessed. Laura snorts as if the whole thing is beneath her, while Foggy’s brow is furrowed as he quietly explains to Matt what just happened.

“You really think this is the best way to go?” Claire asks, turning to stare at their merry band of... Peter doesn’t even know what to classify them as.

“I don’t know,” he sighs as Laura snags his shades from his pocket and slides them on. “But it’s the best I’ve got.”

“Uh-huh. Well, when this all goes to shit, just remember that I told you it wasn’t the world’s greatest idea.”

“Mm,” Peter hums in agreement as David whips towards Kilgrave (who’s in Syd’s body) and starts yelling. “I’ll remember. In fact, I think I’m already starting to agree with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't consumed every piece of fiction Marvel's ever created like some sort of crazy succubus from hell (sorry Shiklah), here are the powers of the main seven (more may show up later but for now these dudes are the mains):  
>  **Peter Parker [Spider-Man, Avengers, etc]** \- just a psychiatrist, no powers (yet...?)  
>  **Claire Temple [Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, etc]** \- kickass nurse lady, no powers  
>  **Kevin 'Kilgrave' Thompson [Jessica Jones]** \- the power to make anyone do whatever he says (except for Jessica Jones)  
>  **Laura Kinney [Logan]** \- same as Wolverine, basically... bone claws, healing power, superhuman strength, etc.  
>  **Wade Wilson [Deadpool]** \- wicked gud healing factor, enhanced stamina, agility, etc.  
>  **Sydney Barrett [Legion]** \- the power to touch someone and change places with them temporarily, also gaining their power while she's in their body  
>  **David Haller [Legion]** \- Charles's son. literally no one knows how strong he is. he can levitate things, read minds, teleport, and a bunch of other stuff, but he has shit control over it. he also has a parasitic life-force in him (the Shadow King, Farouk, whom he and Syd call Lenny) who is telepathic. lenny needs some serious therapy.


End file.
